


The sun’s coming out but i’m feeling colder

by orphan_account



Category: The Smiths
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Andy likes being held down by Mike, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Rough Kissing, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25716343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I can’t wait ‘til the drought is over.
Relationships: Mike Joyce/Andy Rourke
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	The sun’s coming out but i’m feeling colder

**Author's Note:**

> alright, so. first, i’m a little disappointed that there aren’t more andy/mike fics out there, but with joyce ending up being quite the villain in most people’s eyes i guess that kind of makes sense.
> 
> i started this last night and it’s the first time i’ve ever had an idea that made its way into words exactly the way i imagined it in my head, so i am very proud of this. that being said, it’s also my first time writing a sex scene. but hey, it can’t be worse than Morrissey’s attempt right? but if they seem a little ooc, well, that’s because none of this ever happened!
> 
> this is basically because of quietwandering’ s comment that maybe Andy likes to be held down by Mike :)

Morrissey was the first to get up.

“Well. Goodnight,” he said. It was addressed to Johnny, as most things he said were. The singer hesitated before turning the doorknob, waiting to be acknowledged.

“Wait - Mozzer I’m coming too,” said Johnny brightly. He smiled, and Morrissey’s entire face lit up with adoration. 

The four of them had been sitting on the floor of Mike’s hotel room, basking in the post-concert afterglow. Though three of them had the mind to get pissed at the bar a few blocks away, Morrissey seemed to have other plans for he and Johnny.

The guitarist stood and met Morrissey at the door, wrapping an arm around the other’s willowy frame. “Night you two!” called Johnny, and they were off.

Andy exchanged a knowing glance with Mike as the door to his room was shut, leaving the two of them alone.

“It's a good thing my room’s on the first floor,” said Mike. “Wouldn’t wanna be in the room that’s - oh, I don’t know - right next to Moaning Mozzer’s.” he sniggered and wagged his eyebrows at the blonde. 

Andy made a pained expression, blushing slightly at the suggested context and got up to raid the mini fridge. “You owe me this… for that horrible mental imagine.” he told the drummer and popped the cap off a beer, sipping it eagerly to avoid the progression of awkward conversation. Mike laughed and took a sip of his own drink. The two of them sat in silence for a brief moment.

“They’ve no shame anymore,” mused Mike. He looked up at his friend, who was now sat on the bed holding his bass guitar as if it was a newborn baby. When his friend didn’t reply, he spoke again but louder, as Andy had a tendency to space out. “And why should they? It’s only us. Plus Morrissey’s been a great deal more pleasant to be around…Johnny must be giving it to him good.” 

Andy nearly choked on his beer at that last part and scowled at Mike. He didn’t really want to think about his best friend giving their singer a service hump. Though he supposed it was a bit more than _that_ , everyone saw the way those two looked at each other: like the love in their eyes would never die out, not even if they both were crushed by a double decker bus.

It was kind of nice, really. Andy couldn’t imagine ever finding someone that looked at _him_ in that way. He stared down at his guitar now deep in thought.

The bed suddenly dipped to his right and there lay Mike sprawled out, elbows nearly touching Andy’s precious bass. Andy hoped that Mike would just lay there quietly. As if him hogging the whole damn bed (even if it was _his_ ) wasn’t annoying enough, the bassist didn't want to talk about his bandmate’s sexual affairs.

The Morrissey and Marr union made him feel bitter and jealous. Why couldn’t he find something like that? But then his mind drifted back to a conversation he’d had with Johnny earlier that week, his friend letting out a puff of smoke before giving his thoughts on Andy’s failed love life. “Get clean.” was all his friend offered as advice. If it was that damn easy he would stop doing drugs right now and never look back. But he didn’t have Morrissey doting on him day and night keeping him out of trouble like Johnny did, he didn’t have anyone. 

“Still, it’d be nice to hold someone…” Mike had apparently been talking while Andy was analyzing his internalized wallowing.

The blonde groaned, annoyed. Everything - even Mike, who he normally looked forward to having these chats with - was getting on his nerves right now and he didn’t know why he’d become so irritable lately.

And so, he snapped.

“Then why don’t you go and see if they have room for a third? Morrissey might even allow it if you ask nicely.” Mike’s jaw dropped almost comically and Andy shifted on the bed. 

Collecting his guitar case from the floor, he began putting it away gently, which was a clear enough indication that he was going to leave. When he’d snapped the clasps shut and was ready to go, he was stopped by a hand closing around his wrist. Mike was looking up at him confused. “Andy… what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” He lied and ripped his wrist away with ease. 

Mike blinked, eyes glazed from the effects of alcohol. He sat up and reached out again, this time catching Andy’s cheek gently in his palm, urging his friend to look at him. Andy refused, and turned his face to the side. He was red with embarrassment for being so moody out of nowhere and even worse now he’d begun to cry like a fucking girl. It had to be something to do with withdrawal, or at least that’s what he told himself to feel better. 

Mike however wasn't about to ignore whatever it was that his friend was going through.

Suddenly Andy was pulled into a crushing hug, which took the blonde by surprise. Mike was kneeling on the bed with his arms wrapped tightly around the bass player, trying to offer him some kind of comfort. But Andy remained stiff in the embrace. He wasn’t used to this kind of affection and so it was a little weird having his friend holding him like this so intimately.

It was strange, but also kind of... _nice._

He sniffed softly and tried to hold back the stinging tears that dared to leave his eyes. He was so tired and he didn’t want to talk about _it._ Even now as he was being taken care of by the drummer, he still felt alone. But he was grateful that Mike didn’t pry and just continued to hold him tightly in his arms.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours before Mike eventually pulled away. Andy’s face was wet and blotchy and he refused to meet his friend’s gaze even though Mike was searching his face persistently. 

Admittedly, he wanted to leave and go get high and forget this whole thing ever happened, because what a fucking disaster it was. He wasn’t sure if the embrace made him feel better or worse, it kind of just made him feel pathetic. But before he could dwell on it for too long, Mike was tugging him back down onto the bed, those arms wrapped around him again.

Somehow they ended up in a position with Andy lying underneath Mike with the drummer’s weight caging him to the bed like a heavy blanket. His face held gently between two hands, fingers wiping away the tears that had escaped. The act was so tender and, something that in Andy’s experience, wasn’t typically shared between two friends, or bandmates (unless of course you were Morrissey and Marr). Was that what this was…? Not likely.

Deciding he’d never know what had changed between them, he finally looked up at his friend and he felt a wave of affection wash over him. It was warm, like the sun, and Andy basked in it. But then Mike was leaning in and Andy knew what was coming next. 

The initial shock of it being Mike Joyce that was kissing him was something Andy just sort of pushed away from his mind. Because it should have felt awkward and wrong, friends don’t just kiss each other because one of them is feeling shitty. But here they were, kissing, and it actually felt really fucking _good._

His eyes fluttered closed and he sighed into the mouth moving against his own.

It was nothing like his experience with kissing girls; Mike was rough and demanding. Andy gasped when the drummer’s tongue slipped passed his lips without warning, plunging deep inside his mouth. It was nice, he decided, and slowly, he began kissing him back. Though he struggled to keep up.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with his hands. He tried grabbing at Mike’s hips to draw the two closer together, but his wrists were quickly pinned above his head. He would have pouted had his mouth not been currently preoccupied.

At some point they parted for air and Andy was left breathless, but still wanting more. Mike smirked down at him and gave him just that, this time leaving wet, sloppy kisses along the bassist’s neck. It took everything in Andy not to moan, but he couldn’t hold back anymore when he felt teeth grazing over his collarbone. He let out a yelp and squirmed beneath Mike. 

He must have looked wrecked; wrists pinned above him, panting, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. Though he didn’t really care what state he was in, he was more interested in his bandmate. Andy had never really looked at Mike before, like _this,_ but he found himself appreciating the view. Mike wasn’t pretty like the girls Andy so often picked up at gigs, and he wasn’t soft or delicate in all the right places either, but hard and solid. Despite all these differences, he couldn’t deny the attraction he currently felt towards the other male. 

Was he so desperate for human touch that it didn’t matter who was touching him? He liked what Mike was doing and his body was reacting as it should…. did that make him gay? 

Mike must have sensed the panic building within because he quickly let go of his hold on Andy’s wrists. Everything slowed down and only their weighted breaths could be heard as he dropped his head down on the pillow next to Andy’s, mumbling a “ _sorry”_ into the blonde’s neck. 

Without the distraction of Mike’s kiss, Andy’s mind began to race again. He desperately needed something to cling to. A boost of confidence came over him, which was normally something he lacked, and he made his decision.

Slowly he ran his fingers through Mike’s dark hair, pulling the drummer’s gaze back up to meet his own. He smiled shyly and was sure desire could be seen reflected back in his toad green eyes. 

“Mike… _please.”_ the voice that left him was needy and sounded nothing like his own. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was asking for, another kiss, perhaps? Something more? 

But his plea was answered when Mike rocked forward slowly, pressing his weight and hard arousal against Andy’s front. His face burned, but didn’t shy away. Instead he leaned in and pressed their lips together again. 

Andy's kisses were more gentle, slow and deep, like he would play the bass. He let his touch wander, fingers brushing along the shell of Mike’s ear, which caused a shudder throughout his friend’s body.

They continued to kiss and Mike caught Andy’s lip between his teeth and bit down sharply. The blonde gasped, it stung, but soon he was being licked and soothed by Mike’s tongue. He opened up to him and the kiss turned bruising as Mike took it to his liking again. 

He had begun to rock them together slowly, creating a new friction between them. Andy moaned, the front of his jeans growing tighter with each drag of Mike’s hips. Unsure hands found their way down to Mike’s rather shapely ass - who’d have thunk it, him sitting on it all day - and gave him a squeeze. To this, Mike pulled apart their lips with a loud smack and sat up with his legs spread on either side of Andy’s thighs, straddling him. Hands slipped underneath his t-shirt, Mike’s touch wandering all along his abdomen. But his touch was gone as soon as it began and the sound of a zipper being dragged down cut through the silence in the room.

Andy looked between them and watched as Mike was readily shoving a hand down his own pants. His other hand went to Andy’s chest to hold the bassist in place and also to steady himself. He started pumping himself with long, measured strokes. Andy couldn’t move and he couldn’t look away, he could only watch with lust filled eyes as the other pleasured himself. 

Mike smirked and winked at him, holding Andy down harder against the sheets. A rush of desire went straight to Andy’s groin, deciding that he rather liked being held down by Mike and his hips bucked upwards. 

”You like that?” asked Mike, continuing to stroke himself while applying more of his weight on Andy’s chest.

Swallowing thickly, the blonde nodded.

”Tell me –” demanded Mike, and Andy felt the hottest blush of his life engulf his face. 

“Fuck. I... I like it.” the words somehow left Andy’s mouth. 

Mike answered by bringing their lips together in a sloppy kiss, hips starting to stutter. Andy knew Mike was about to come. And he did, all down the front of Andy’s t-shirt. Panting and sweaty, Mike collapsed on top of him. 

Andy, who was now painfully hard in his jeans felt slightly...neglected. But the drummer soon put his worry to rest, leaving a trail of lazy, wet kisses all along his throat and working at the hem of his t-shirt. The two parted long enough for Andy to get the messy thing over his head and throw it on the floor. And then Mike’s mouth was on him again. This time on his nipple, tongue swirling around the little bud with a flick. Andy arched his back and gripped the sheets tightly. Mike then gave his other nipple the same treatment though this one he bit rather sharply, causing Andy to moan.

His tongue teased playfully at Andy’s stomach while deft hands moved quickly to undo the blonde’s jeans. He paused when he got them pulled down, along with Andy’s underwear, and looked down at the other with shyness in his eyes for the first time that night.

“I’ve never done this before, but I want to try, so bear with me, yeah?” and with that Mike wrapped his hand around the base of Andy’s dick and gave him a tentative lick at the tip. 

“ _Fuck, Mike —”_ he moaned.

Nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of the drummer’s lips wrapping around his cock. It wasn’t the most skilled blow job he’d ever gotten, but Mike was enthusiastic in trying and it felt really good nonetheless. 

Andy grabbed a handful of dark hair and lifted his hips off the bed, he’d appreciated Mike’s efforts to suck him off but he needed more. Soon he was fucking up into Mike’s mouth, and Mike just let it happen. Knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer, Andy tugged gently at the dark hair, warning that he was close to his release. Mike pulled his mouth off of him and finished him off with a few short strokes, the drummer’s hand soon sticky with come for a second time that evening. 

Mike nuzzled his nose against Andy’s thigh, leaving a chaste kiss there before getting up off the bed and heading towards the bathroom. Andy laid back and stared up at the ceiling, no more intrusive thoughts plaguing his mind. He felt completely and utterly relaxed.

When Mike returned fully naked, having just cleaned himself, he brought a damp towel between Andy’s legs to do the same. Then discarding the towel to the floor, he climbed back on the bed and fit himself at the bassist’s side like a glove. 

There was silence. It wasn’t bad, for once Andy felt like he’d actually mattered to someone. But it was interrupted when the door to the room opened with a sickening screech.

There stood Morrissey with an off putting grin on his lips.

Andy went as white as a ghost and looked to Mike, panicked, but strangely enough the drummer seemed unphased by their unannounced guest. 

“Forget something, Mozzer?” asked Mike, a knowing smile spread across his lips. 

Morrissey’s eyes landed on the naked pair and then to the armchair where the singer’s notebook sat forgotten. He walked further into the room to retrieve it, moving slowly for someone who had just walked in on two of his bandmates post sex. 

Notebook in hand Morrissey made to leave, seemingly unaffected and oddly amused by the entire display. The singer opened the door and was halfway out when Mike called to him. “Lock it this time, will ya?” teased the drummer. 

“Whatever for? Are you planning to devour our bass player again so soon? Don’t wear him out too much, we play again tomorrow night.” Morrissey tutted and didn’t wait for the reply, instead the door slammed shut and he was gone.

Mike let out a booming laugh but Andy was still very much so in shock. The drummer leaned over and pressed a kiss to Andy’s forehead, still giggling. “Relax, will ya? Mozzer’s the one who told me to make a move. He took Johnny out so I could. The nosy git couldn't wait until morning to see if i’d done it.”

Somehow this information only made Andy feel worse. Since when did those two come to each other for romantic advice? 

“Morrissey told you– to _make a move_.” he stated rather than asked and stared up at the ceiling in disbelief.

He didn’t know whether he wanted to strangle Mike or kiss him again. His head was spinning. 

“Well, yeah. And it worked… didn’t it?” asked Mike, there was an inkling of doubt lining his voice.

Andy turned to lay on his side, facing the worried man next to him. 

Had Andy really been so busy getting high that he completely missed his friends' supposed infatuation with him? Was that what Johnny was hinting at when he told him to get clean? 

After a moment, he asked. “How long have you felt this way?”

Mike blushed, which was very unlike him but met Andy’s eyes with a smile. “Dale was never any good…” 

From the very beginning. Andy didn’t believe it.

He started to argue. “You know that _I’m_ not any good either, right?” And it was true, well not the part about playing bass, but he was a complete mess and he didn’t want to drag Mike into it. 

“I thought you’d run… if I told you,” Mike confessed nervously. “and I couldn’t lose you– you’re like my other half, musically, sometimes I think we sound even better together than ole Moz and Johnny and–” he was rambling. 

His words pulled at Andy’s heart.

He found himself smiling at that– that Mike thought they were just as good, if not better together than Morrissey and Marr. But there was still the issue of Andy’s problem with drugs. Surely no sane person wanted to deal with that. 

“I’m… I don’t want you to get caught up in my mess –” Andy started up again with the self doubt but then Mike was wrapping him up in a tight hug.

“Andy, look, I’ve been here the whole time, and I _want_ to be here now. No matter what. Please, don’t push me away.” his voice was pleading and he pressed a kiss to Andy’s shoulder reassuringly. It was a lot to process, but he decided that if it was necessary, they could argue about it in the morning. Andy felt good and wanted and so he relaxed in Mike’s arms just happy to be there. 


End file.
